


Cold

by apple_pi



Category: The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Fluffy Smut, M/M, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-13
Updated: 2005-05-13
Packaged: 2018-07-27 10:48:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7615039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apple_pi/pseuds/apple_pi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Comfort and care across long distance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold

“Billy!” Dom shifts the phone around, pads to the door of his room to close it. Just Orli out there down the hall, but still. “How are you?”

“M’cold, Dommie.” His voice is sluggish, ever-so-slightly petulant, and Dom smiles, knowing Billy will hear it across 12,000 miles of earth and water and sky.

“What’re you doing right now, Bills?”

Halfway round the world, Billy stares at the mound of clothing covering half his bed and then glances at his windows, grey and frosted and wet—outside with icy rain, inside with condensation. “Packing. And shivering,” he adds, cocking his head tight against his shoulder to hold the phone; wrapping his arms around himself.

“All right.” Dom takes a deep breath of tropical air and lies back on his duvet. “Get undressed and get under the covers.”

Billy doesn’t protest, doesn’t even speak; he nods at the phone as though this, too, will crackle across the ocean to Dom. Phone placed on bedside table and Billy strips down to his boxers and climbs under the covers, where he shivers more violently and pulls the phone back to his ear. “Still cold,” he says.

Dom’s only wearing shorts and a vest; he pulls the hem of his shirt up and puts one hand flat on his belly. “Pull the covers over your head, now. Get in there where it’s dark.” He can hear Billy’s jaw, clenched, and the strain in his voice when he replies: “This needs to work, Dom. I have to sleep and I can’t because I’m cold. Didn’t sleep all night.”

“I know.” Dom’s voice is soothing. “Breathe in and out, hard—pretend you’ve just been running.”

Billy’s in the dark, the linens crisp and chilly over his body; he’s curled on his side and he does as he’s told, fast, harsh breaths that carry easily to Dom. He can feel the pillow getting slowly warmer beneath his cheek, and his clothing and the empty suitcase are a weight that press down the covers behind him.

“Slow down, now,” Dom says. “Any warmer?”

“A little,” Billy admits.

“Put your hand between your thighs to warm it up,” Dom suggests. “God, I can’t wait for you to get here.”

Billy tucks both hands between his thighs, clamping the phone to his ear using one shoulder. “I know. Two more days. Elijah called me yesterday—he sounds about five years old.” Billy smiles, feels the warmth of that, too, feels his breath beginning to humidify his little microenvironment. “I fly tomorrow morning, pick him up in L.A., then… we’re there.”

“Gonna be so good, Bill. So good to see you both. So good to see you.” And Dom is smiling, just a little wickedness to his voice, mingled with the affection.

Billy closes his eyes, knows already what it will be like. He and Elijah won’t sleep on the plane, probably—Elijah too young and excited, Billy too old and excited. “I know,” he says. “Where’s Orli?”

“He’s in his room—we had an early night tonight, want to get up early for the tide tomorrow.” Dom’s rubbing small circles on his belly, fingers all together, dipping slightly under the waistband of his pants.

By the time they land in Hawaii Billy will have been awake for far too many hours, he’ll be dehydrated and exhausted and worn—irritable and cranky. His hair will be dry and staticky, standing up in crackling little licks, and his mouth will be dry and sticky. “So you’re in your room,” he says. He’s finally getting warm, at least the top of him, and he tells Dominic so. “My legs and feet are still chilly. But it’s much better.”

Dom sighs, and pushes his hand into his boxers to rub almost absently at his cock, soft and comfortable in the damp heat. It begins to stiffen. “I’m not done warming you up,” he says. “Time to take matters in hand.”

Billy’s ankles will hurt when they land, tiredness singing through every stride, and it won’t matter a bit. Because he’ll see Dom and want, immediately, to kiss him, possibly run off to the nearest gents’ and have a fast, desperate, celebratory reunion involving Dom’s mouth and his, Dom’s hands and his, Dom’s bits and his (which have not been in contact for far too long). 

Now Billy sends a little smile through the phone. “If you insist,” he says, and wraps his fingers comfortably around himself without pushing his boxers down. “Mmm. Talk to me, Dommie.” The cotton creates a warm, gentle friction and he closes his eyes, waiting for Dom’s voice to take him beyond this comfortable massage.

He and Dom won’t be able to achieve immediate gratification, though, because Elijah will be there, watching and smirking and teasing, pushing them together but just as surely (and unintentionally) pulling them apart—circumspection, kindness. Don’t wanna rub the kid’s face in it. Don’t wanna make him feel like the third wheel. So they’ll hug tightly and sneak in a quick kiss (and grope) and then break apart. 

“God, Bill. The things we are going to do… Orli decided to stay over past New Year’s, you know.”

“I didn’t.” Billy absorbs this information, continues the firm, slow push against his cock. “What does that mean?”

“Means we can send Lij out with him. Get the house to ourselves for a few hours without actually kicking Doodle’s ass out the door by himself.”

“God, I love the way you think.” Billy rubs a little more briskly, and Dom, breathing slow and deep, is doing the same thing on the other end of the line.

“I want to kiss you until neither of us can breathe,” Dom says. His room is dark—he switched off the bedside lamp and now there’s only nighttime, within and without the screens around his lanai. “Push you up against the kitchen wall and grind against you so hard… Christ, that got me all the way hard,” he says admiringly.

“Me, too,” Billy agrees. “Pretty warm, now, too.”

“Tell me what you’re doing,” Dom demands.

“Mmm.” Billy’s pulled himself from the confines of his shorts. “Just the usual. Stroking is all, really.”

“Tell me,” Dom repeats. 

Billy’s light voice drops a bit. “Got my hand all wrapped around quite a nice erection, then. Feels good, just rubbing up and down. Foreskin’s slid all the way back, m’quite hard now…. Your turn.”

“The same,” Dom says, and Billy can hear the slight tension in his voice, feels it frisson into his ear and straight down to his cock, which is now as straight as a flagpole; he could hang a coat on it if he stood up. Dom is continuing. “I wish it was your hand all tight on me, Bill,” he says. “Your fingers wrapped around me, stroking up and down. Love to feel that—you’ve got such a tight grip, got those calluses. Wanna feel that soon, Bill.”

“Gonna grab you so hard and tight, Dom,” Bill murmurs. He’s picturing Dom, lying on his bed, cock red and hard and his balls pressed up tight by the waistband of his shorts, which are (in Billy’s mind) pushed down in front, snug across his thighs. “Gonna let you push me up against that kitchen wall and push into me. Gonna push right back, Dominic.”

“I want to taste you, too, Billy,” Dominic whispers, “hold you against the wall with my hands on your hips and pull your pants down so rough, get my mouth over you as fast as I can.”

Billy makes a small sound, clears his throat. “Got a little pre-come there, Dom. I think I want you to taste me, too.”

Dom laughs breathlessly. “I got some new toys,” he confides.

Billy inhales, holds his breath and then speaks. “Did you now? Can you tell me?”

“Mm. Yeah. One of ’em… a new dildo, made of pyrex.” Dom’s smile is audible. “Prettiest thing you’ve ever seen.”

“Glass?” Billy’s doubt is audible, too.

“Yes, but unbreakable. Comes with a lifetime guarantee, and holds heat _very_ well—much better than the plastic ones I already have. And it’s gorgeous, all smooth and coloured glass in ribbons twisting through it. It looks like art.”

“Shall we put it on the coffee table?” Billy giggles. “And how exactly do you know how well it holds body heat?”

“Already on the coffee table, mate. You should’ve seen Orli’s face when he asked what it was— _after_ he’d picked it up, mind you.” They both laugh, hands slowing in unison across half the earth. “And I know how warm it gets because I’ve already tried it out.” Dom’s voice drops to a low, honeyed purr, and his hand speeds again on his aching erection. “Thought of you. Pretended it was you, pushing into me, opening me up.”

“Oh holy fuck,” Billy mumbles, closing his eyes under the covers, hips pushing up to meet his hand’s rhythm. “Want you so bad, Dommie.”

Dom moans, breath quick. “How you doing there, Bills?”

“Getting there,” Billy says succinctly. “Can’t wait to get inside you. So hot and tight, love.”

“Jesus…” Dom stutters, and Billy hears his convulsive swallow. “Wish I had that fucking dildo right now.”

“Use your fingers.” The words come out on a whimper, and Dom gasps and twists to comply, clamping the phone tightly with his shoulder. Billy hears the wet sound of Dom’s fingers in his mouth and squeezes the base of his own cock tightly to keep from coming right then. 

“Ah—ah—” Dom groans. “Billy—”

“Dom, you sound so fucking hot, Dommie, oh, Jaysus fuck—” Billy gives a sharp cry and begins moving his hand again, fast and hard. “Coming soon, Dom, gonna come in you soon, oh—”

“Bill—ah—tell me tell me come for me come in me _please!_ ”

Billy opens his mouth, arches his back and feels his chest go concave as his hips buck. “Now, Dom, I’m—ahh, shite, yes, yeah, _god_ — …” His come spurts out over his hand and belly, warm and wet, and Billy curls around his center, shaking with the pleasure of it, panting for air.

“ _Billy_ —” Dom’s orgasm is a wail, a plea, and Billy shudders as he listens to Dom’s climax, seeing, in his mind’s eye, just exactly how Dom’s face looks, beautiful and strained as he screws up his eyes and opens his mouth and cries out Billy’s name across the sea.

Neither of them speak for a minute or so; Billy pushes his boxers off and cleans himself with them, then drops them outside the haven of the bed, snaking his hand back under, back into cosy warmth. Dom stretches and sighs and relaxes, looking down his body, pleased with it, with the sweat gleaming on every plane, with his taut, damp belly and its decoration, droplets and trails of come. He, too, pushes his shorts down and off. Fuck it. He’ll put on another pair in the morning, before Orli has a chance to spy him.

“Oi, Dommie.” Billy’s voice is warm and sweet and sleepy, and he yawns, loud and clear. “I’m warm, all over, from my nose to my toes.” Wonder spices his voice.

“Good then. Stay under the covers and sleep.” Dom wriggles until he’s under the light quilt to his waist, yawning in helpless imitation.

“How can I? I’ve not packed yet…” But Billy’s voice is so slow, so slurred already, that Dom chuckles.

“I’ll call you this evening, your time,” he says. “Early enough that you can pack and make your flight on time, yeah?”

“Would you?” Billy hums with contentment. “And I’ll see you, soon after that, won’t I, Dom?” His eyes slide shut and he presses back against the weight of the clothes atop his duvet, some part of him pretending it’s Dom’s warm weight, instead.

“You will. Hang up the phone now, Bill.”

“…Right. G’night. Love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” Dom smiles. “And when you get here I’ll show you the other new toys I got.”

“Such a tease… Bye.”

“Bye. Talk to you soon.” 

They both hang up at the same moment. Billy slides the phone up and to one side and curls up, breathing already steady and even as he drifts into a dreamless sleep.

Dom stays awake longer—he sets the alarm on his watch for nine hours later, and places it carefully on the bedside table beside the telephone. He cleans himself with the abandoned shorts and then tosses them across the room, into a corner near the laundry basket. He listens to make sure Orlando hasn’t stirred, but the house is quiet, and Dom closes his eyes. “Soon,” he sighs, and he falls inexorably into slumber.


End file.
